


Crooked Teeth

by taylocrow



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drug Addiction, F/M, Holidays, Neither Jon or Sansa are Addicts, PTSD, Sad but fluffy ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21633496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylocrow/pseuds/taylocrow
Summary: Robb’s been missing for two years, leaving the Stark Family in shambles. Jon Snow tirelessly helps to find his childhood best friend in hopes of healing the broken Starks.Sansa requires a different kind of coping.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 92
Kudos: 233





	1. what’s lost and what’s found

**Author's Note:**

> back with holiday angst WAHOO

It’s been two years. Sansa had gotten a call from her uncharacteristically frantic little sister one ordinary evening that their older brother was missing.

That ordinary evening turned everything on its axis, and nothing in her rather simple life had been so since. There’s an ache that rarely dulls with so many unanswered questions. 

Dark circles beneath her family member’s eyes from the same sleepless nights. Layers of guilt, hurt, and pain that none of them know how to decipher or relay. 

They drift, and splinter, and float apart until Sansa can’t bring herself to Christmas Eve at her parent’s this year. She’s sure they won’t even notice the absence. 

She’s sure she can get his case reopened.

Jon Snow works for the FBI after he served his second tour in the Middle East for the Marines, and is Robb Stark’s best friend. The moment he had gone missing, Jon had immediately busied himself with finding the pieces and cramming them together. 

As her father, Arya, Bran, and Rickon withdrew and moved towards acceptance; Catelyn and Sansa bared down. They needed answers to their pain, and Robb’s tag along friend was the only one who could help them.

Robb brought Jon home when they were kids and he was weird. Sansa didn’t like the way he was so quiet and reserved. It bothered her how he kept a tight lip and only had smiles for Robb and her annoying little sister. Catelyn didn’t like him because he came from a fatherless home and a mother who drank and couldn’t hold down jobs. Jon wore too small clothes and stank of cigarettes before he took up smoking them himself. 

Sansa never paid him much mind until she got Arya’s phone call.

It’s been two years of pouring over video tapes and scrolling through emails and texts. And in that time, Sansa began to see what Robb saw.

Jon smiled more than she thought, even with what they were going through. He’d bring her coffee and always check in. When the theory that Robb had been taken arose, Sansa had been petrified and too scared to sleep alone in her home. Jon slept on her couch for two weeks until he debunked that theory. 

Now, as time goes on and hope feels lost, she clings to Jon Snow for all that he’s worth. Once it was for his connections, intelligence, and familiarity. But those have given way to the feeling of safety, warmth, and unwavering kindness. 

She knocks on his front door and he swings it open worriedly, “Sansa?” His voice raspy.

“Hi.” There’s no Christmas lights at his place like the ones at her own. She’s sure her family is probably suffering through their first round of hot chocolate as she scuffles her feet on Jon’s front porch. 

Wordlessly, he swings the door open wider as an invitation inside. Sansa takes it gratefully and unwinds her scarf before shrugging off her jacket and tossing them to his couch. 

She’s been here more times than she can count at this point. Somewhere between the rawness, fear, and hurt; there was Jon. 

“You okay?” His steady voice unwavering. 

Sansa blows out a long breath of air and shakes her head no. Jon grabs her up without a question and she clings onto him like she has all this time. “I can’t go over there.”

“Then don’t.” Jon rests his chin on top of her head and holds her tightly to his chest. 

She wants him to say something else, something more meaningful, but she’s not sure what. So she pulls back enough that he can kiss her. Jon does so and quickly. 

Together they kiss desperately and passionately down the hallway and into his bedroom. The lights are off, but she doesn’t care either way. She falls back on his bed and at once they’re pulling off each other’s clothes between frenzied kisses. 

Sansa pulls Jon on top of her and hooks herself to him, leaving no space between their bare bodies. 

He’s toned and fit from his service and the gym. Jon takes his dog for walks and runs in races. He does things and tells Sansa about them and it’s almost like they’re together sometimes. Almost. 

Jon’s kissing down her neck and his beard scratches at her skin deliciously. It makes her groan and arch her back, egging him on.

He reaches down between them to start working on her already soaking folds. Jon groans upon realizing how wet she is already, but teases her nonetheless. She lets out a string of hiccuped moans as he works his skilled fingers. 

It hurts to think of where he learned that and who else he does it to. 

They don’t talk about those things. 

“Look at me when I make you cum.” 

_ Those are the things they talk about. _

Sanaa’s eyes fly open so she can look him directly in his heated gaze when she feels the heat in her stomach start to coil. She’s whimpering under his touch when he growls out, “Tell me, Sansa.”

“You’re gonna make me cum.” She breathes out unevenly and forces her eyes to stay open. Jon nods at her and chews on his bottom lip as she begins to unwind. 

“I’m cumming, fuck! I’m cumming!” Sansa shouts out and Jon ducks down to whisper in her ear, “For who?”

“For you, for you.” She whispers as her toes begin to tingle. 

Jon nudges her neck with his nose and guides his hard dick inside of her. Usually, he’d begin pounding into her. He’d fuck her into the mattress and twist and pull at her nipples until they’d be sore the next day. But instead, he moves slowly into her. 

She’s clinging to his shoulders and arching her back up, hungry for more. But Jon continues the agonizing pace. Sansa moves so that her face is below his directly. “Fuck me.”

“I am.” There’s a hint of a joke in his voice but Sansa doesn’t see the humor. She grinds against him and he still remains at his pace. As her frustration begins to mount, Jon leans down and kisses her forehead tenderly. 

“Let me do this.” Jon asks of her. 

She blinks up at him and he smoothes her hair with his hand and places a soft kiss to her lips. 

_ What the fuck? _

It’s usually pulled hair and gnashed teeth and bruises the size of his finger tips on her hips the next day. Never this slow or careful. 

There’s something funny that begins to roll around in her stomach, but she stops trying to put a finger on it because Jon’s own fingers start working their magic once more. He’s rubbing gently still, but the way he rocks inside her is deep and makes her feel so full. Almost whole.

She cries out when she realizes she’s going to finish once again. At this odd pace and without the rush or pain. Sansa cums with his name on her lips and it’s almost  _ sweet. _

Jon pulls out quickly to finish on her tits, but he doesn’t ask her to kiss his cock or beg for his cum. He stares down at her and finishes all over her chest with a string of short grunts and moans. 

It’s as warm as her heart feels, and he pops up fast to grab her a towel. Sansa roughly wipes at her chest as she stands up to return the towel to the hamper located in his bathroom. When she returns to his room she immediately begins collecting her discarded clothes from the floor. Jon dons his pjs with a sleepy yet stoic look on his face as he watches on from the entrance to his bedroom.

“That was different.” Sansa is still naked as she says it. 

Jon watches her finish collecting her clothes and start putting them on before he answers her with a question. “Did you like it?” 

She pauses as she pulls her shirt over her head and then looks at him leaned against his door frame. Her heart briefly flutters and she looks to the floor, “It was alright.”

“Good.” Jon supplies and then he’s off the doorframe and taking a few steps until he’s directly in front of her. “Want to spend the night?” 

“Spend the night?” Sansa repeats back bewildered. 

Jon nods, “Only if you want. I just figured it’s Christmas and it’s...well. You don’t have to be alone if you don’t want.”

For a moment too long she thinks to herself. This is strange and unlike any of their other dances. Usually she’s out the door by now, but she’s dreading a lonely bed and seeing Robb’s stocking hung on the fireplace in the morning. 

So she silently nods and follows Jon back to his bed. He pulls back the covers for her and she hesitates for just a brief moment before climbing in and settling beside him. Sansa moves to roll on her side, but Jon pulls her in to snuggle on his chest. 

It’s bold and new. If he wasn’t catching her so off guard, she’d probably be running for the hills. But he’s warm and she’s comfortable so she rests in the nook of his neck and drinks in his smell. She tries to hide her smile as she falls asleep in his warm embrace. 

Jon stares at the ceiling until he feels her breathing even, that way he knows she’s completely asleep. That’s when he starts to think of how he’s going to tell her he found Robb, and that he’s not the same man he was when he went missing. 


	2. a chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> big sad :((((

With one look the Stark’s hearts are made whole, only to have them ripped from their chests once more at the way all of their arms easily wrap around Robb’s slender frame. Their smiles falter when they see the yellowing of his teeth and the two missing from his previous ten watt grin. 

Arya winces when he itches at the hollow of his cheek, and Sansa sees the way it makes Robb shrink inside of himself. 

She swallows thickly when Robb stumbles with where he’s been and withholds what he was so obviously up to.

Together, her family does what they do best, they act like it’s fine. For the first two days everything is swept under the rug. Sansa and Arya, who both have their own apartments, stay at their childhood home with their family. Ned takes off work and Catelyn cleans like the queen is coming. 

Robb seems to float around the house, haunting every room he steps in. His laugh never meets his glassy eyes and his voice quivers like Sansa has never heard. He once was the strongest man she’d ever seen. With broad shoulders, thick muscles, and an easy smile. Robb walked in a room and it truly lit up.

It was his service, they all come to realize. Robb went to fight alongside Jon and never came back the same. He refused therapy and got a throw away job at a Best Buy. It was shaky to start, but they all thought he was getting it together. 

Turns out he’d been taking pills and those turned to smoking and that turned to injecting. Now he pulls at his sleeves and avoids eye contact. 

Jon comes over on the third night since his return and asks Robb if he wants to grab a beer. Catelyn and Ned share an obvious grimace while Arya and Sansa watch for Robb’s reaction. 

It’s three days after Christmas and already the decorations are down. It makes their home feel empty and bare around this delicate moment. Sansa holds her breath until Robb nods his head. 

Jon looks over at Catelyn and Ned briefly, then claps Robb on the back and starts  _ chatting.  _ Jon Snow making eye contact with Sansa for just a second, and it makes her chest go tight. Their dad eyes watch as Robb leave with Jon. 

“We’ll talk when he gets back.” Catelyn swallows, “Sansa, go get the boys.” 

“Talk?” Arya speaks for the first time that day and Ned gives her a look so somber that it makes Sansa look to her feet in response. 

“An intervention.” 

-

Sansa feels breathless as Robb’s eyes flit around the room. He’s visibly shaken and uneasy, but he had let all of his family say what they had to say. 

_ Please don’t die. _

“Please.” Bran whimpers. 

Robb wipes at his face and then looks to his parents, “What am I supposed to do?”

“We can get you a flight to a treatment center tomorrow.” Ned’s voice is steady and somber. “I’ll take you to the airport.” 

Jon’s foot is restlessly tapping on the floor. His arms are wrapped around himself tight and his lower lip is being gnawed at between his teeth. Sansa tries to use him as a center of gravity. Something to ground her in this moment and remind herself that what’s going on is all very real. But Arya leans over to him and she flinches away from their interaction. 

Robb sighs, “I don’t know what good it will do.” 

“You’ll have another shot.” Bran insists. 

“I’m already dying.” Robb scoffs, “You guys are under some kind of delusion that I’m going to be the same punk ass kid I was at 17. Before I killed people, before I watched friends die, before I overdosed in Dorne and woke up to another needle.” 

The room goes still and Sansa sucks on her quivering lip, “Do you want to try?” 

Robb looks directly at her, for the first time this whole wicked evening, and says, “No.”  


-

She’s been hiding in the upstairs bathroom for much too long. 

Robb left and Catelyn had run so desperately after him. Sansa’s eyes had met Jon’s just as Ned jumped up to chase after his wife and eldest son. 

Arya shouted something and Bran began rolling his wheelchair towards the door to follow suit. Rickon lost somewhere underfoot.

Sansa ran upstairs.

The cold water she had splashed on her face upon arriving has now dried. It did little to mend the hollow ache in her chest, but at least it was something. 

There was a full knock at the door while she was still hyping herself up to go find out what happened. She remained silent until the visitor announced who they were. 

“Sansa.” Jon’s velvet voice called to her from the other side of the door. 

Jon gently pushed the door open and Sansa saw his face and knew. Robb was gone all over again. 

What was worse? To imagine him dead, the not knowing, the mystery; or just waiting to see if he makes it? To know that he was choosing to leave.

Sansa’s lower lip quivered and Jon stepped into the bathroom, closed the door, and pulled her into his embrace all in one fluid movement. She smelled the sandalwood on him and instantly melted into his touch. Jon rubbed gentle circles onto her back and whispered words lost in the chaos of the moment. 

Sansa pulls back from his chest to look in his wet eyes, “What now?” 

Jon clutches her face with his wide palms and such a terrified look on his somber face that it sends a chill up her spine. He’s visibly terrified and the vulnerability of that is enough to make Sansa lose her dinner. So instead she kisses him. 

They kiss like they have many times before, but this time around it’s wet and salty from tears and hurt. If this could help him, she’d do it a thousand times over. So she closes her eyes even tighter and feels him start to mess with the bottom of her shirt. 

Sansa tugs it down and instead starts to work on her jeans, fumbling with her button and yanking at the material with shaky hands. Jon follows suit with desperate motions and uneven breath. 

“Fuck me.” The way he says it sounds like goodbye. 

She bats her lashes in confusion but doesn’t say a word. With either hand on her childhood bathroom sink, Jon enters her with selfish fervor. It makes her moan at the ache, and Jon covers her mouth with his roughened hand. 

Sansa stands on her tip toes for easier access, and he lifts her up to rest her butt on the cold ledge without missing a beat. He’s rough and sweet at the same time, but she refuses to linger on it because how else would she be able to finish?

She reaches down and begins to touch herself with an anxious hand. Jon tilts her chin up so that there are no secrets, his eyes see it all in the bright light of the bathroom. Her tear stained cheeks and wild, mussed hair are there to remind him of what they’re doing and why. 

Sansa closes her eyes and hears Jon grunt. “Open ‘em.” 

She refuses and stills her hand on herself. Jon leans forward to whisper, “Just like before. Look at me when you cum for me Sansa, I want you to  _ look _ at me.” 

As he pulls back he lifts her chin gently and her eyes immediately flutter open. His features are soft, tears have made his own cheeks damp, and his hair is just as out of control as hers, they’re lost in this together. 

He quickened his pace and pulled her even closer to him. “Cum for me.”

She had slowed her hand down and had been staring, shamelessly soaking in the moment. He always made her feel so good, so much better, so why did she still feel all this hurt? 

Jon made another kind of grunt that made her moan in response. He reached down and pushed her hand aside to begin using his own expert grip to send her over. 

Sansa teeters on the edge and whispers his name. She’s not even sure he hears it, but he looks into her eyes with a fresh batch of tears brimming and grits his teeth. “Fucking Sansa.” 

She gasps then and feels the warmth crawl and spread from her toes up her spine. Things that she’d normally say to have him cum inside her get tangled and caught at the back of her throat, so instead she grips his shoulders and grinds further down on him. 

He tosses his head back and sighs, “Fuck!” 

That’s it. 

Jon hugs her tightly and rests his cheek on top of her head for the briefest of moments. The feeling of warmth and safety he had provided for her these past two years seem to dwindle and withdraw as he meets her eyes. 

The sounds of her disoriented family clamoring downstairs are now too obvious to ignore. Jon leans over and fixes his belt before kneeling down and pulling her jeans delicately up her long legs and to her waist. Before buttoning them, he plants a gentle kiss to the front of her underwear, then he closes them up. 

Sansa draws a deep breath and looks to him for the last bit of comfort before she pushes through the bathroom door to confront all her fears. Jon gives a stern nod and its all she needs to force herself down the stairs and into the mix. 

She doesn’t notice him slip out between her mother's cries and Bran and Arya’s heated argument. 


	3. folded page

There aren’t enough cigarettes to bury the existential dread Jon feels during this holiday season. Considering what a shit show last year’s Christmas brought, he assumes there’s nowhere to really go but up. Then again; he knows better than to assume. 

  
  


As the shortened Marlboro between his fingers starts to get a little too hot, he tosses it to the sidewalk and stomps it out. He pulls his jacket a little tighter to his body and takes a deep breath of the bitter cold. Whether it’s the temperature or his thoughts, he’s not sure, but something makes tears prick his eyes. 

  
  


It’s been a few months since he’s actually cried. There’d been a picture uploaded by a fellow former marine. In the photo Jon had a beer in his hand while shooting Robb and their friend a joking side glance as they used their own bottles as microphones to sing along to whatever song had been playing. The memory of the pain that ached in his chest for the days following were enough to threaten another round of tears. 

  
  


“ _ Wow, a classic. Broody boy shooting us some shade while we sang along to what must’ve been a great one. Where the hell has r0bbstark been at?”  _ The caption had read. 

  
  


Jon sniffs at the memory and turns to head back into his house. He whistles for his dog to follow, which Ghost does obligingly. When they cross the threshold of their home, it’s as dark inside as it is outside. Ghost heads over to his dog bed and leaves Jon to turn on the TV and sit in silence. 

  
  


He’d get on his phone if he wasn’t screening Arya’s calls. Dinner hadn’t gone so hot last week. She had gone on a tyrant about him needing a new job, to quit the cigarettes, and all sorts of idealistic things he knew was better for him but didn’t care for nonetheless. 

  
  


He’d taken a break from investigating and began to work at a bookstore for more of a low key existence. Something mind numbing and easy so he could keep his head above water. 

  
  


Jon’s therapist thinks it isn’t a good idea and that he should go back to the FBI. Jon thinks she should shut the fuck up. 

  
  


There’s nothing but fluff on TV, but it feels nice to put on The Grinch and think about how many other people are watching the same at that exact moment. He’s basking in his self loathing pit of loneliness when his phone rings from his bedroom. 

  
  


Like the past few days, he ignores it. Maybe he should just toss it out. What’s the point of paying a bill if he’s just going to stare at all the calls and texts he’s not going to answer. Jon refocuses on the movie and let’s it provide some silly comfort. 

  
  


As his eyes begin to grow heavy, there’s a knock at the door. Strong, precise, and almost familiar. His ears perk up at the sound and he slowly rises to his feet before reluctantly tiptoeing to the door. Ghost is quick on his heels, but isn’t barking. 

  
  


When Jon pulls the door open, he’s half expecting a red headed Stark child on his front step, but he draws a sharp breath at which one is standing in front of him. 

  
  


“Hi.” Robb’s cheeks are sallow and the dark circles under his eyes tell Jon everything he needs to know. 

  
-

  
  


It’s heavier than it was last year, probably because no one has talked about it. Together the Stark family spent the day of Christmas Eve playing games, napping, and baking the cookies they were now decorating. The tradition feels a tad forced but it’s cathartic nonetheless. It’s Christmas Eve, so the kids decorate cookies while their parents tend to the pots and pans on the stove and in the oven. It’s what they do, but the pieces are now jagged. 

  
  


Sansa is with Rickon at the dining room table working on the gingerbread men laid out before them. It’s silent between them and Arya was supposed to be back with the gum drops by now. So she hops up to track down her sister. When she begins down the main hallway she hears hushed and hurried voices that make her steps turn to tip toes.

  
  


“He won’t answer my fucking calls and he texts you?!” Arya’s voice hisses. 

  
  


Sansa ducks behind a corner so she can hear the other end of her sister’s heated conversation. 

  
  


“It just came through,” Bran’s usually calm voice is now pulled tight and high strung. “Should I get Dad?” 

  
  


“Well if he’s already here what is there to say?” Arya sighs, “He’s such a glutton for pain.” 

  
  


Sansa can’t see Bran frown but she knows he must be. “Arya, it’s Christmas.”

  
  


“Christmas or not, he’s ignored me for a week! Where’s his spirit!” Arya calls after Bran. Sansa hears him go towards the back door and then moves to slink back to the dining room with Rickon when Arya rounds the corner and jumps. 

  
  


“Jesus!” Arya clutches her chest and narrows her eyes, “You were eavesdropping!”

  
  


Sansa’s eyes widen, “I was not! I was...I came looking for the gumdrops.” 

  
  


Arya’s eyes roll practically into her skull and she sighs, “Jon’s here you eavesdropping little asshole. I was going to tell you anyways.” 

  
  


Her little sister brushes past her, leaving her to fiddle with her sweater for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. “Ready or not princess, he’s coming in.” Arya shouts behind her and Sansa does a final tug at her green knit. 

  
  


Sansa catches up with Arya easily enough, and then she’s shouting to the rest of the family. “Get in the entryway! Now!” 

Arya rarely calls for any type of meeting. So her power is clear when the family quickly joins her side. Rickon licks icing off his fingers while Catelyn and Ned hold hand towels and their own respective timers. “What is it, darling?” Catelyn’s flustered as she looks over her children. 

  
  


“Well—“ Arya is cut off by the knock on the door. She looks at it then back at them, then she swings it open. 

  
  


Not only is Jon Snow standing on their front porch, but so is their oldest brother. Robb shivers behind his friend with a meek smile and watery eyes. 

  
  


Catelyn drops the timer in her hand and barrels towards him, arms spread wide. Everyone quickly follows suit and smothers Robb in a dog pile of relief and love. As they pull away, the initial gleam immediately dissipates and and awkward silence follows.

  
  


So Jon breaks it by greeting Ned and then everyone is giving him hugs, even Arya who whispers something in his ear that earns her a grimace and a ruffling of her hair. The air is thick in Sansa’s mouth, she feels her chest tightening, and she should go throw her arms around her brother she hasn’t seen in a year, but all she tastes is the bitterness on her tongue. 

  
  


She sees two men who ran away. One who chose drugs and one who gave into fear or whatever it was that made them stop speaking. Sansa draws a deep breath and looks at her sister for guidance, but Arya is grinning ear to ear and talking to their brother and Dad. 

  
  


“You can do this.” Bran’s level voice soothes her. His hand on her elbow plants her in the present. “Go.” 

  
  


Sansa feels her feet move forward and Robb and Jon spin to her like gravity. She looks between them both and Robb has tears that begin to stream down his cheeks. “Sansa.” They speak her name in unison but Sansa chooses her brother. She hugs that son of a bitch and squeezes him because she didn’t think she’d ever be able to again. 

  
  


“You better be here to fight.” Sansa clings to him and Robb nods furiously. They pull back from their embrace and Robb looks to their parents. “I need….I need…” he sighs and chokes on a repressed sob, “I need help.” 

  
  


Catelyn swoops in with another hug and Sansa looks over to see Jon watching her intently with widened eyes. For a brief moment the hugs and rush of her family is background noise. It fades into a fuzz and all she can see are those brown puppy dog eyes and matching lopsided, sad smile. 

  
  


“Hi.” He mouths and Sansa blinks. Then her family is inviting the two of them to join the dinner and finish decorating the cookies. Sansa is the first to look away, and she feels Jon staring at her as she heads back to the dining room with her younger brothers in tow. 

  
  


For the first couple minutes it’s a tad awkward, Robb looks awful, but it seems they’re all trying to make this Christmas Eve work. There’s a different feel than last Christmas, one with more hope, but there’s still too much visible anxiety to call it anywhere near peaceful.

  
  


Sansa’s hands shake as she spreads the sprinkles on the assorted cookies. When dinner is called she speaks for the first time since her exchange with Robb, “I’ll have water, thanks.” 

  
  


Catelyn locks up the liquor cabinet and Arya dumps all the meds in the upstairs bathrooms while Sansa and Bran set the table for dinner. Ned talks to Robb and Jon about sports and other easy subjects. When they all join each other at the table it’s forced at best. 

  
  


While the food is delicious, nobody goes for seconds. Jon is seated across the table from Sansa, and she works hard at looking anywhere but at his longing gaze in between sips of water and pleasant nods required from conversation. 

  
  


When they wrap up, Robb looks at his dad, and Ned tries to smile. “Alright, let’s head out.”

  
  


Catelyn immediately starts the water works and Arya, surprisingly, follows suit. The two of them cling to Robb and whisper words drowned in tears of anguish and relief. Bran wipes his eyes and hugs his brother tightly before Rickon tackles him roughly. Rickon makes Robb laugh and that causes Sansa to finally cry. 

  
  


Tears course down her cheeks as she repeats “Thank you.” To Robb over and over. Thank you for not dying, thank you for coming home, thank you for getting help. 

  
  


Jon steps forward for his farewell. 

  
  


_ Thank you for bringing him back.  _

  
  


Robb kisses her cheek, “Be good.” 

  
  


It makes her sob, those two little words, they were what Robb had said to her since they were babies. He’d gotten it from their mother, but it turned into what he always said to his little sister. His first sibling. It meant goodbye, I love you, take care of yourself. 

  
  


Sansa wipes at her eyes and looks away when she sees Robb envelop Jon in an embrace. She leaves the room for water, and doesn’t return to the entryway even when she knows he’s about to leave. She refuses to see him look like that anymore, the next time she sees Robb she wants to see him healthy and strong. 

  
  


So when the front door closes she collapses, falls to the kitchen floor in a pile of tears and grief. Of unsaid words, forgotten pain, and utter relief. Maybe she’s crying louder than she thinks, but soon there are arms surrounding her, cradling her to their chest. 

  
  


The scent of Jon’s laundry gives it away. His arms are secure around her and she sobs into his sweater with no qualms over embarrassment or looking pretty. 

  
  


“It’s going to be okay.” Jon shushes her and whispers into her hair. 

  
  


Sansa sniffles, “I’m terrified he’s come home just to die.”

  
  


Jon doesn’t even miss a beat, “He won’t die. I won’t let him.” 

  
  


And for now, it’s enough. It’s enough that he’s getting on a plane and Jon’s arms are around her after six months of avoiding and not speaking. 


	4. sparkles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve never been to rehab ok I’m wingin it here

The irony of addiction isn’t lost on Sansa as she finishes off the beer in her hand. The bar is packed with drunk and joyous patrons ringing in the new year. It’s getting dangerously close to midnight and Sansa heads up to the bar to order another drink as her friend Margaery heads to the restroom. 

  
  


Tonight was practically a miracle, the fact that Sansa was out and in a bar to party. Margaery had to whip out every negotiation tactic to drag her out. Sansa was sold on unlimited free drinks and the possibility of being able to skip out next year. 

  
  


New Years has never been that big of a deal to Sansa, there was nothing to really freak out about. Time being a flat circle and all, yadda yadda. She just took it as an excuse to drink and a free paid day off. Although, she didn’t necessarily hate the holiday, she did enjoy the sparkling grape juice. 

  
  


Year after year she reached for the Welch’s as opposed to the bubbling burn of champagne. It makes her think of the old parties her parents used to have and how all the young Stark siblings would pour some in assorted glasses pretending to be grown. That desperate plea with time to just grow up so you can be your own person and eat candy whenever you want. 

  
  


Sansa orders her beer and scans the room for Margaery. The beer is slid across the wooden bar and she grabs it gratefully, takes a big sip, and returns to scanning for her blonde haired friend. That’s when she catches eyes with him. 

  
  


Jon Snow with a mature glass of white wine, a somber look, and his old friend Sam chattering away at his side. All of the lights switch from purple to green, the music picks up to a different beat, and sweat accumulates above Sansa’s upper lip. 

  
  


“Hey, isn’t that—“ Margaery’s peppy voice coos from beside her. 

  
  


“Shit!” Sansa jumps at her friend’s reappearance and clutches her chest, “Jesus Christ Marg!” 

  
  


“What?” Margaery is drunk and giddy, and a sinister smile spreads across her face like a cracked egg. “Is this about Jon or me?” 

  
  


Sansa never told a soul about Jon, but Margaery was no moron. They had been roommates when Robb first went missing and she had reached out to Jon. For a sly fox like Margaery it wasn’t too hard to piece together. Although she’d only asked once, and when Sansa denied, she accepted it with those silent, all knowing eyes. 

  
  


“Nothing is about Jon.” Sansa denies and takes a big sip of her drink in rebuttal. 

  
  


Margaery giggles, “Well, here he comes.” 

  
  


“ _What?_ ” She gasps and looks up to find him crossing the room to where she is. Sansa looks over to her best friend in panic and reaches for her when Margaery gives a sloppy wink and backs away. “Marg!” 

  
  


“Hey.” Jon is standing in front of her now, plain grey sweater, black jeans, and leather boots. He looks like a goddamn Calvin Klein ad. 

  
  


“Hi.” She blushes and looks at his toes. They hadn’t spoken since he’d held her on the kitchen floor seven days before. When he had promised it’d be okay and then Arya came in and took her from his grasp. Jon kissed their heads and left to go do whatever Jon does now. 

  
  


Sansa had woken up on Christmas with a sour stomach and bloodshot eyes. 

  
  


“I didn’t think you’d be out.” Sansa yells over the music and Jon shrugs. 

  
  


He looks over his shoulder and Sansa follows his line of sight to his friend Sam talking with a skinny girl laughing at his jokes. “Who’s that?” 

  
  


“Gilly. They’re dating now.” Jon scratches at the back of his neck and wobbles just the slightest bit. 

  
  


He’s drunk. 

  
  


Sansa wrinkles her nose at the realization and snickers briefly, “Having fun?” 

  
  


“Sure. Third wheeling has always been my specialty.” Jon takes a sip of his wine and looks around. “Where’d Margaery go?” 

  
  


“I’m not…” Sansa peers around until her eyes land on her best friend dancing with a cute guy. “Oh. Welp, there she is.” 

  
  


“She has always liked this stuff, huh?” Jon laughs a bit to himself and it comes off a little rude. 

  
  


When Sansa narrows her eyes at him, Jon is quick to correct his mannerisms and relaxes his stiff shoulders. “Margaery loves a good party. It’s easy for her. That’s why Robb always had the hots for her.” 

  
  


Her throat constricts at the mention of her brother but she hides it by bringing her beer to her lips. If Margaery is such a good time, then what’s Sansa? The tag along puppy? The beer she swallows is just to bury her hurt feelings. 

  
  


“You’re the life of the party, you know.” Jon shoves his free hand in his pocket. “Margaery goes to the parties but you…just make it better. I don’t know if that makes any sense. Sorry, I’m rambling and being weird. So anyways, I’m gunna head back over.” He gestures over to where Sam and Gilly are dancing and Sansa shakes her head quickly. 

  
  


“That was...kind.” Sansa stutters over her words in an attempt to keep him from walking away. It works, because Jon teeters on his heels and angles himself to be right in front of her. “What are you drinking?” She changes the subject swiftly to keep him around. 

  
  


Jon’s cheek tinge with a rose hue and he lifts up his glass, “A glass of sparkling grape juice, in Stark’s honor.”

  
  


A warmth spreads in her chest at the shared memory. The fact that he cherishes the tradition makes her beam with pride. She sticks her hand out, “Give me a sip!”

  
  


“I’ll trade you.” Jon snags her beer and replaces it with the grape juice. Together they clink the glasses and sling back a giant sip. Sansa giggles with delight and passes the grape juice back gratefully. “I needed that.” 

  
  


“Ditto.” Jon nods at the beer glass he’s handing over to her. 

  
  


She opens her mouth to speak when there’s an airhorn blown several times. Together they cringe and glance around in bewilderment. 

  
  


“30 seconds until midnight!” The DJ yells over the microphone, “Find who you want to ring in the New Year with!”

  
They lock eyes and Sansa swallows thickly. Jon’s eyes flicker from her lips to her eyes and back again. 

  
  


“Jon—” Sansa is cut short by another air horn. Bright, white lights swirl and flicker throughout the dance club and the DJ starts out the countdown. “20…”

  
  


“We don’t...you don’t have to…” Sansa stumbles over her words. 

  
  


Jon tilts his head and shouts over the loud beats pumping through the speakers, “What?”

  
  


“15…” The DJ calls.

  
  


“This doesn’t have to be a thing!” Sansa yells and motions between them. There was still shame lingering from the way he held her on the kitchen floor, and she had no plans to ever relive or rehash what everything meant. In truth, Sansa planned on going right back to pretending none of it ever happened. Something that she could file away and bury deep in the back of her mind.

  
  


Jon steps closer and wrinkles his nose in confusion, “I can’t hear you!”

  
  


Another airhorn.

  
  


“10! 9...8…” The crowd begins the infamous countdown.

  
  


Margaery has her arms thrown around the random guy and Sam is already kissing Gilly. Jon visibly swallows and takes another step closer. 

  
  


“3...2…” 

  
  


Jon grabs her face with gentle but sure hands. 

  
  


“1! HAPPY NEW YEARS!” The crowd bellows and Jon’s soft lips are on Sansa’s for the briefest of moments. 

  
  


She looks to him in shock and Jon laughs at the confetti falling from the ceiling. Looking up makes her dizzy, but the leftover warmth from where his grip had been on her face makes her insides soar. 

  
  


“Happy New Year, Sansa Stark.” He grins over his beer and then disappears and melts into the chaos of the crowd. He seems to have a knack at doing so. 

  
  


-

  
  


There’s snow drifting from the sky, falling furiously and coating everything that stands still in a layer of fluff. Robb should’ve picked somewhere warmer to get sober.

  
  


There’s weight on his belly now, pink in his cheeks, and he seems more willing to meet eyes with his little sister. Sansa finally made the trip up to visit Robb in his new digs. She was the last member of her family to do so, and the guilt weighs heavy on her chest. 

  
  


They sit side by side in the sunroom and watch the earth turn white in silence. She feels odd, like a grown up, and it causes her shoulders sag. For the first time in a long time she aches for the familiar burn of a cigarette. 

  
  


“He’s been up here.” Robb mumbles. 

  
  


Sansa barely hears him over the distant noise of the other addicts visiting with loved ones. “Hmm?” She tugs at her earlobe and replies noncommittally.

  
  


“Jon. He came a month ago.” Robb picks at his cuticle.

  
  


At that, Sansa jerks her head and looks at her brother without flinching. His hair is shiny, there’s no shadows haunting his eyes, and there’s a teasing smirk painted on his lips. 

  
  


“Oh?” Sansa tries her hand at playing it cool and forces herself to keep looking at him. Robb blinks and looks back to the windows first and then scoffs, “Yeah, Sansa.” 

  
  


“That’s nice.” She rubs her jean clad thighs to settle her nerves. 

  
  


It hadn’t been easy coming here. To come see her ailing brother fight for his life. Part of her was terrified he’d look the same or worse, that he’d beg her to save him and sneak him out. Sansa would have no choice but to help him. 

  
  


So far he’s done nothing but surprise her. He smiled and hugged her upon greeting and showed her around proudly. Neither of them acknowledged how long it took her to visit or how she hadn’t called. Because now she was here and all Robb ever has done is love her. 

  
  


“Have you seen him?” Robb has a strange tone in his voice. It makes her quirk her eyebrow and frown. “Why?” 

  
  


Robb doesn’t answer, he only smiles. 

  
  


“What Robb?” Sansa snips and it only makes his smile brighter. 

  
  


“I think he’d like to see you.” Robb begins to bounce his leg and Sansa scowls. 

  
  


It’s mid March now, a little over two months since running into Jon on New Years, and all they’ve done since is like one another’s respective Instagram posts. Sansa was busy with work and ignoring her guilt over her brother. She wasn’t feeling up to playing games or sneaking around. Maybe it was a New Years resolution. 

  
  


“Couldn’t imagine why.” Sansa continues to stare out at the snowy scene and can feel more than hear Robb chuckle.

  
  


“Okay, Sansa.” 

  
  


They watch the snow fall until it stills. Then all that’s left to do is say goodbye. She swallows her sobs and wishes him well and promises to call. 

  
  


When she drives to airport all she can feel is the ache of wanting to hold a hand. 

  
-

  
  


“Hello?” 

  
  


“Hi Jon.”


	5. smokes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: PTSD, war, drug use. The works!! Not super detailed but just enough that I don’t want anyone to be upset upon reading if those are triggers for you. 
> 
> ALSO I don’t know anything about the marines LMAO so just go with me here ok!!

There had never been a question of what Robb was going to be when he grew up. He was going to become a Marine and fight for his country just like his father and grandfather had before him. When he signed his name across all of those dotted lines, the immense pride and excitement he felt was immeasurable.

  
  


The cherry on top was his best friend in the whole world signing alongside him. Jon shot him a grin before they shook the recruiter’s hand and the next thing he knew they were being shipped off to different basic trainings. It was difficult, but it was great fun, he met people from all walks of life and pushed himself more than her ever had. 

  
  


18 year old Robb felt proud and that was something very few kids his age could say. 

  
  


He first got deployed to Iraq and had the fucking gall to think he was ready. And really, he was. Robb was prepared and trained, he was thorough, and completed every mission. 

  
  


He painted small Iraqi towns red and drank enough so he didn’t see it in his dreams. Friends died in battle, IEDs blew trusted squad members to smithereens, and Robb started needing alcohol on the job. 

  
  


When he came home he found something stronger so he could look his family in the eye. Jon saw it. He was quick to pick up on Robb’s frailties and took pity on him. The poor rich kid who’d never worked a hard day in his life couldn’t keep it together. 

  
  


Robb envied Jon’s ability to function. He had no clue how Jon could smile and actually fucking mean it. So when he got deployed again, there was some miracle where Jon was in his squadron, it made Robb want to fight harder. To prove he could handle himself. 

  
  


It made the nightmares much worse. 

  
  


When he came back after the second tour and was planted back in Winterfell, Robb wasn’t sure which way was up and which was down. There were job offers around town but he took up a full time gig at Best Buy. 

  
  


Somewhere between stocking shelves and sleepless nights, he found Ramsay Bolton. Then came the powder and the pills and the needles. Anything to feel numb. 

  
  


Rickon, little Rickon, found Robb passed out in the garage one Saturday morning and that’s when he bolted. His family didn’t deserve him, nobody needed him. 

  
  


So he caught rides and smoked pipes and slept in dilapidated homes on couch after dusty couch. It’d been so long on so many couches on different roads in unheard of neighborhoods. When Jon appeared, it had been after an all night bender that left him sleeping for a day. Two days? He hadn’t been sure. 

  
  


Jon threw a lifesaver around him and pulled him up from the deep blue. Arriving in Winterfell made him ache to go back under. As soon as he saw his sad eyed family he missed the ache of drowning. At least when he was then nobody could look at him the way they had been. He wanted to gut himself when he realized it was fucking Christmas, and he hadn’t even known. Robb had allowed himself to get so fucked that he literally couldn’t keep track of days. 

  
  


When his family sat around in the living room and told him he needed help, he wanted to scream. What’s left to save? Everyone had been doing just fine without him. 

  
  


So he went back to couches and various girl’s arms. This one and then that. Each with a different voice or hair or eye color but nothing ever felt like home. He’d gotten in this big fight with a redhead named Ros when he split and took a walk in the downtown of Flea Bottom. It was there that he realized it was Christmas once again. 

  
  


A whole year of nothingness, 365 days with no birthdays or holidays. Robb hadn’t seen a beach in three years. Or so he thinks. 

  
  


The realization makes him stick out his thumb to hitch a ride. From Flea Bottom to Harrenhal, Robb smokes and injects and drinks to try to prepare himself. He’s not sure if he’s trying to just sweeten the trip home or to kill himself before he gets there. 

  
  


So he snorts something and pops a pill and sucks another dude’s dick to get out of some debt. 

  
  


When he crosses the county line, there is no warm feeling that he was expecting. Only cold shock and absolute fear, but along with those came the motivation to walk from the bus station to Jon Snow’s home. There was just something that told him it was the place to go. 

  
  


He regretted it the moment Jon opened the door. Just like always, he wanted to split, to run for the fucking hills. But instead he stays. Jon hugs him and Robb knows it’s time to fight. That if he doesn’t try now then he might as well go finish himself off with the heroin in his backpack. 

  
  


Christmas is weird but it doesn’t suck at least. When he’s dropped at the rehab by his Dad, he expects tears. But Ned only gives him a stern nod and says, “I love you.” And Robb has to wipe the snot from his face before he walks through the doors to check himself in. 

  
  


As he starts his steps and begins the therapy, it rips open wounds he’d half sewn and ignored and let fester since the beginning. It fucking sucks and yet he’s never felt better. His family visits him and he picks up playing piano. 

  
  


When Jon comes to see him he feels especially raw. That morning Robb had to explain his night terrors and the triggers that initiate them. Which snowballed into his therapist ripping out the story of the civilian mother he accidentally killed like a fish hooked through the gill. 

  
  


So when his best friend walks through with his broad shoulders and steady gaze, it makes him antsy. There’s something he just has to get off his chest, but it’s twisted at the tip of his tongue. Jon sits across from him at a tiny table with two shitty coffee cups in front of them. 

  
  


“So, seems alright up here.” Jon peers around as he comments on the surroundings. Robb shrugs in response and pretends to fiddle with sugar to pour into the coffee he’s not going to drink. 

  
  


“You look good.” 

  
  


It makes Robb pause mid pour and give Jon a serious look. That’s exactly what his parents had said when they first came to see him. 

  
  


Robb tosses the sugar packet to the table and straightens his back, “I have to tell you something.” 

  
  


Jon quirks an eyebrow slightly and nods for him to continue. But the words he’s rehearsed are so technical and die at the back of his throat before he can just say what he needed to for years. 

  
  


“I want a beer.” 

  
  


Jon cracks a smile wide enough the bridge the gap in Robb’s heart and he has to look away before Jon can spot the tears pooling in his eyes. “Yeah, coming right up. They got them in the back?” 

  
  


Robb scoffs and then clenches his fists for the courage alcohol would’ve given him. “I’m jealous.” 

  
  


“Of Miller Lite being my crutch?” Jon’s face falls the moment he realizes the joke is no longer appropriate. “Of what man?”

  
  


“You. How you do it.” Robb picks at imaginary lint on his jeans. 

  
  


“Do what?” Jon blinks slowly, “How I do what?” 

  
  


“Live. How you can just keep going. How you carry yourself without falling apart while my pansy ass is falling to fucking pieces.” Robb is ashamed of the tears that begin to fall. “How you’ve had it...how your life has been and I just...I can’t keep it together.” 

  
  


Jon sniffles and Robb feels selfish relief at the vulnerable sadness in his best friend’s eyes. “Robb, it’s not a competition.” 

  
  


“I know, I fucking know.” Robb wipes furiously at his face and covers his face to confess, “I just can’t help but hate myself for not being able to stand as tall as you. You’ve just got your shit together.” 

  
  


Jon clears his throat and frowns. “I have something to tell you too. It’ll make you feel better.” 

  
  


“Doubt it.” Robb swallows a sob and tries to smile. 

  
  


“I’m in love.” Jon sighs, “But I can’t be with her because I’m not the guy you think I am.” 

  
  


Robb furrows his brow and looks at Jon curiously. He couldn’t be talking about...no. No way. “Who?” 

  
  


Jon meets his eyes and shrugs, “Sansa.” 

  
  


Robb snorts and rolls his eyes, “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

  
  


“The only times I don’t wake up screaming is when she’s beside me. We called it off. Well we did but we didn’t but it’s over. And I quit my old job, started working at a book shop.” Jon talks faster to bury the first part about sleeping with Sansa as quick as he can. Robb doesn’t miss the way Jon’s cheeks tinge pink. 

  
  


For a moment Robb struggles between confusion and rage. How and when did this happen and where the fuck was he? “You love her?” 

  
  


Jon nods solemnly. “She needed someone when...well, when we all thought you were dead.” 

  
  


Robb scratches at the back of his neck anxiously. “Why’d you break up?” 

  
  


“You weren’t dead.” Jon chuckles and reaches in his pocket for a cigarette. When he holds out the pack for Robb’s taking, Robb indulges himself. They both light their own cigarettes and Robb tries to breathe deep. 

  
  


“Are you mad?” Jon flicks some ashes to the side. 

  
  


Robb weighs the silence and finally shakes his head no. “Not at you or her.” 

  
  


They smoke for a few more minutes without a word. Until Jon breaks the silence, “I learned at a young age to not feel. To bury and forget it. Don’t ever be ashamed that you feel things and it fucks you up.” 

  
  


Robb looks at him. 

  
  


“I see a therapist, I’m on medication, and I have a therapy dog. There are nightmares so vivid, I swear to God, I’m right back over in the desert.” Jon rubs his jaw with the back of his hand, “I had to learn how to feel like you do.” 

  
  


“You never picked up a needle.” Robb looks to his shoes and Jon laughs with no humor.

  
  


“You’ve gotta win this Robb. There is no choice.” His eyes are hardened steel and there’s an edge to his previous slouching posture. He means business when he says, “You’ve got to feel this bullshit and get out on the other side. You have to live.” 

  
  


Robb struggles to find words and decides that there’s no sort of reply he can possibly conjure to answer his best friend’s plea. So he nods noncommittally, much to Jon’s dismay. 

  
  


“I have a promise to upkeep. I’m not letting you die.” 

  
  


Robb sets his jaw and glares. “I’ll try.”

  
  


“No you don’t get it,” Jon pleas, “I made it because I had you and your family. I would be in your shoes or worse if I didn’t.” Jon explains. “A fuck head dad and a dead mom didn’t leave me with all that much. It gave me shit coping skills and a best friend. So, I’m working on the rest. I need you here to work on the rest.” 

  
  


Robb is back to staring at him and he puts out the cigarette on the table. “If you love her, go get her.” 

  
  


Jon shakes his head, “Nah, she deserves better. She’s not talking to me anyways.” 

  
  


“You and I both.” Robb lets it slip that she hasn’t been to visit and Jon looks at him worriedly. 

  
  


“She hasn’t…?” Jon taps the table to motion her visitation of her older brother in rehab. Robb clears his throat uncomfortably, “No.” 

  
  


“Hm. Well then.” Jon just shrugs, “She’ll come. Believe me, she will.” 

  
  


“What makes you say that?” Robb knows what he’s saying is true, but is curious what’s behind Jon’s reasoning. 

  
  


“She wouldn’t leave you.” Jon states simply and it makes Robb smile. Because Jon must really love her if he knows something like that about his sister. The way his face is so content just at mulling over why Sansa wouldn’t be here, it brings Robb just the slightest bit of peace. That maybe there is some silver lining to deserting his family for a few years. 

  
  


“Call her.” Robb insists and Jon pulls out another cigarette. 

  
  


_Damn_ , Jon’s got it bad. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next step: F LU F F


	6. alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluff :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a couple time jumps, I hope it isn't too confusing

There’s nothing like shared trauma to bring people together, Sansa thinks tragically as she stares at Jon from across the waiting room. 

  
  


It’d been only two days since they’d spoken on the phone and had been planning to grab some dinner tonight. Instead they sit along with her anxious family in the hospital waiting to hear whether or not Robb is going to make it. 

  
  


Someone snuck pills into rehab and he thought it was a great idea to steal them and swallow as much as he could. 

  
  


Sansa stares at Jon’s laces and tries to imagine what her brother is thinking right now. Is his brain even working anymore? Or is he hooked up to machines? Maybe he’s high out of his mind and living his best life. There seems to be nothing Robb likes more than a quick and easy high. 

  
  


“Mr. and Mrs. Stark?” A nurse pops her head in and glances around the crowd. 

  
  


Sansa’s parents hop to their feet and run to meet the woman. Cat begins to sob almost immediately, and it sets them all on edge until Ned pulls her in for a hug as relief washes over his face. 

  
  


He’s alive. 

  
  


-

  
  


A fluttering in her stomach makes her grip tighter to Jon’s hand, they cross the parking lot and Sansa reads Sunrise Treatment Center written in elegant font across the awning before the double doors. 

  
  


“At least this time he’s not in the damn tundra.” Jon tries to joke when he senses her nerves. He pauses at the entrance and pulls her close, “Hey, hey, you okay?”

  
  


Sansa chews at her lip and avoids his eyes, “It’ll be fine.”

  
  


Jon gently takes a hold of her shoulders and looks at her until she finally meets his gaze, then he tenderly puts his forehead to hers before saying, “You’re right. It’ll be fine.” 

  
  


They look into one another’s eyes until Sansa finally lets go of the breath she’d been holding. She allows herself to get a bit teary in the comfort of his touch before drawing a calming sigh and mustering the strength to go inside. 

  
  


It’s been 5 months since Robb was booted from his other treatment center for overdosing on the premises. Now, he’s in another treatment plan with a lot more therapy and a lot less free time and puzzles. Ned had made sure Robb was going into a much more structured treatment center this time around. And now that all of them had unfortunately been through this, all of the Starks knew the drill. 

  
  


However, this was much different than usual. So far when Sansa had come to visit her older brother she had been with her mom and last week with her sister. This was the first time she was going to go see Robb with his best friend and Sansa’s….well, they hadn’t gotten that far yet.

  
  


But Jon spent most nights at her place and suffers through her favorite sitcoms. He cuts her lawn and started buying groceries for her place. He even had a little section of her closet where he kept work clothes. Jon made her laugh, really laugh, and held her hand tight when she wasn’t in a laughing mood. 

  
  


Sansa nuzzled in his neck when he had his nightmares. She taught him how to make fluffy pancakes and showed him some yoga moves to stretch out his back. And as much as he loved the bookstore, she even pushed him into getting back into lawforce. 

  
  


Sansa made sure he took his medicine and went to his appointments and Jon watched that she was getting enough sleep and helped her study for her master’s degree. They were happy, really happy, and when they weren’t, they still stayed. It was unlike anything Sansa had been apart of. Being a team that was mutually supportive and caring.

  
  


“Let’s go.” Sansa smiles as best she can and Jon rubs a thumb across her cheek. 

  
  


“You can do this.” Jon assures her as the sliding doors open and an older couple walks out. Sansa grabs onto his hand and pulls for him to lead the way. “We can do this.”

  
  


Jon grins and they begin their unsure shuffle into the tropical treatment center. She isn’t sure of how to feel, but she is sure of Jon, and that makes her feel better as she follows his lead. They sign into everything and talk to all the right people. 

  
  


Robb appears in the giant entryway of the gathering room. He’s much more tan than last week, Sansa notices bitterly. She runs up to him and he squeezes her so tightly that she catches her breath. When he lets her go it’s only to do the same exact thing to Jon. Her cheeks grow hot as she realizes he probably saw them holding hands as they were walking in. 

  
  


“What’s up you two?” Robb hides his snicker by spinning on his heel and leading them over to some seating. There are tables, chairs, and sofas littered all over the place. There are even some vending machines in the far corner, and Sansa could do with some M&Ms or a Coke. She shakes the temptation by sitting across from Robb and Jon who sat side by side on an evergreen couch. 

  
  


Robb turns to say something but cuts himself off, “Oh, pardon me. My bad.” He hops up and takes a chair beside Sansa and motions for her to take his spot beside Jon. 

  
  


“Robb,” Sansa whines and Jon’s ears turn pink.

  
  


“Oh come on, don’t be daft. Just take a seat next to your boyfriend.” Robb pulls a cigarette out from his back pocket and holds the pack out to Jon. 

  
  


Jon shakes his head no and it’s all Sansa needs to take up the seat next to him. She hated his smoking. 

  
  


Robb scoffs and holds a lighter up to his own Marlboro. “Look at you.” He points between them and tilts his head. “Too funny.”

  
  


“We just came by to catch up.” Jon plays off their unease with grace and leans forward, “How’ve you been?”

  
  


Robb shrugs, “As good as I can be. Unearthing trauma can be some real shit, but no more overdoses. You gotta promise to upkeep.” Robb throws Jon a sloppy wink that makes Sansa give him a questionable glance. 

  
  


But Robb’s teasing ends as quick as it started and he hops up to grab a deck of cards and insists on a game of Rummy. Together, they play the silly game and talk about nothing and everything. They dissect their mom’s weird habits and talk about Jon’s new job. Robb explains his days in further detail than he ever has to Sansa before, and even asks Jon for clarity about an event that happened overseas. 

  
  


When it’s time to go, Sansa feels drunk on warmth and contentment. Jon pats Robb on the back and Robb whispers something that makes Jon punch his side. Then her older brother is pulling her in for a side hug and saying, “Be good.” Just like he always has and always will. 

  
  


As they leave the center, Sansa feels more certain that Robb is truly getting better than she ever has before.

  
  


-

  
  


It’s Christmas again, but this time there are no bated breaths or painful tears. It’s been a year sober for the Stark family. Music jingles throughout the decorated household and everyone runs about setting up this thing and that. The cookies bake to a golden brown in the oven, and Catelyn takes them out dutifully. Ned comes by to deliver them to the dining room table. 

  
  


All along the table are Rickon, with his hands already sticky from sneaking some icing, Bran, with a crooked smile and his favorite Star Wars sprinkles, and Arya, with her new handsome boyfriend, Gendry. Sansa watches gleefully as Gendry plants a gentle kiss on her head and Arya swats at him playfully. She turns to her left and sees her brother, Robb, with an arm strewn over Sansa’s old friend Margaery’s shoulder. He has a giant toothy smile on his face and makes a joke Sansa can’t hear over Arya’s groan of disgust. 

  
  


Jon leans close to her to whisper, “I call the green icing.”

  
  


“You wish!” Sansa was a known hoarder of her favorite color and would always decorate all the tree shaped cookies. 

  
  


When the plates are set out by Ned, the kids carefully distribute them amongst themselves. Sansa hears Robb explaining the family tradition to Margaery, who nods along. They’d actually been prom dates once. Neither of them had ever really gotten over the other and life had just brought them back full circle. Sansa’s just happy to see Robb look at somebody the way...well, the way Jon looks at her. 

  
  


Sansa goes to reach for her icing when Jon snatches it out of her grasp. “You jerk!” Sansa exclaims and she reaches for the container. But as she does so, she feels how empty it is. This makes her pause in confusion. 

  
  


He takes a shaky breath and avoids her eyes and Sansa knows. Jon carefully pulls her hand towards him and overturns the container to dispense a sparkling diamond ring in her palm. Tears pool in her eyes and she uses her other hand to cover her mouth. 

  
  


Everyone at the table is completely silent as Jon drops to one knee, “Will you please be my wife Sansa Stark? I can’t...I want to be with you all the time and I need to be by your side, always.”

  
  


Sansa sniffles and throws her arms around him as she nods, “Of course. Yes. Yes!” She whispers and places an excited kiss on the soft skin of his neck. 

  
  


“Oh BARF!” Robb jokes and the family erupts into cheers of joy. 

  
  


Jon grabs Sansa’s face and kisses her nose then her lips, “I love you.” 

  
  


“I love you.” She replies with such relief. 

  
  


“More than green icing?” Jon raises an eyebrow and Sansa swats at him. 

  
“Maybe.”

-

  
  


“I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Stark!” The minister shouts and the crowd shouts out in cheers and whistles. Sansa looks across the altar to see Jon take a break from clapping to wave at their daughter Willa in the crowd. 

  
  


Robb kisses Margaery and the two sprint, hand in hand, up the aisle. 

  
  


Sansa joins arms with her husband and he gives her a quick kiss on the cheek as they start their own walk back up the aisle and towards the reception. Margaery’s brother holds out baby Willa for Sansa to grab, and she does so happily. The three of them walk up the aisle and Jon kisses both his girls. 

  
  


Willa reaches for her Daddy, and Jon scoops her out of Sansa’s grasp and gives her a spin. “You ready to party pretty girl?”

  
  


Their 10 month old daughter squeals in delight and begins her chant of “Dada dada dada dada,” as they walk over to the fellowship hall immaculately decorated with fabrics and flowers. Sansa should’ve expected as much after Margaery helped her with her own beautiful wedding, but Sansa is truly blown away at her new sister-in-law’s eye for design. 

  
  


The guests gather for food as the photos are taken. Sansa juggles with smiling for the wedding portraits and balancing her baby on her hip. Margaery gives Willa kisses and coos and Sansa beams at the thought of Margaery giving her brother a baby. 

  
  


When the party starts, Sansa happily sips on the delicious fruit punch. It’s a dry wedding, for obvious reasons, but it’s far from dull. The music plays loudly and pretty much everyone in attendance is out on the dancefloor. Including her daughter and Jon. The two of them spin happily with Arya and Rickon. 

  
  


Sansa looks over to see Robb refilling a cup of lemonade for his bride and makes a move before anyone can get to him first. 

  
  


“Congrats!” Her shout and abrupt hug almost make him drop the drink, but he recovers quickly and hugs her closely. 

  
  


“Thanks Sans.” Robb pulls away and takes a look at everyone’s happiness and she can feel him deflate a tad. 

  
  


Sansa squeezes his shoulder, “It won’t always be this fun, but it’ll always be worth it.” 

  
  


Robb smiles at her, “You know, out of all this shit, I’m the most glad that you have Jon. I might’ve almost died there a few times and really fucked things up, but if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have him and he wouldn’t have you.”

  
  


She nods, “I’ve thought the same thing, many times. Especially when I hold little Willa.”

  
  


Robb kisses her complicated hairdo and grins, “Love you.”

  
  


“Be good!” Sansa shouts after him as he heads for the dancefloor and Margaery. She looks over to see Jon waving Willa’s arm to invite her over to join them. Sansa smiles the whole way as she boogies over to them both. 

  
  


After everything, she has them. Sansa Snow has family. 


End file.
